Framed in Blooddiscontinued
by Janet69
Summary: Discontinued. Please read new version.
1. Chapter 1

Love was something denied to me for so long. Love, I always believed, was such a stupid word. But still, I had always wanted it. I'd had my fair share of infatuations, but they were nothing but bleak and empty attempts at love. And the one time I finally fully comprehended what it was, it was taken away as quickly as it had come. I still don't understand how it happened. I've tried as hard as I could, and somehow the pieces still don't seem to fit.

One small tear found its escape through the corner of my eye, leaving a smudge of dark grey in its path. I felt the warm wetness slide cautiously down my cheek, and I for once allowed myself to cry.

I pulled my hood closer to my head, fending off the cold Helsinki air. If I tried hard enough, I could still faintly catch the scent of him preserved in the worn fabric. For just a moment I held the sleeve closer to my nose, trying hard not to breathe onto it. The scent of my breath would overpower his, and I wanted it long as possible.

Three lit candles circled the front of me, their orange flames playing delightfully with the winter breeze. If let out a light sigh, the closest flame would shudder violently from my breath's weight. I absently gazed at his tombstone, but no matter how much I stared, he wouldn't come back. His name etched deep in the stone mockingly stared back at me, immortalizing his deficiency.

Freezing wind nipped at my exposed nose, turning it a faint red as it worked on pulling my hair loose. I had long since tried keeping it tucked behind my ears. A light pain filled my belly, and I only wanted to cry more. I let a chilled hand with brightened fingertips rest softly over it, feeling the warmth it faintly emanated. I let out a small sigh, and closed my eyes tightly.

Every night I visited his grave. Whether it be out of fear his existence wasn't real or out of pain I'd never see him again, I didn't know. I just chose to wait the nights away sitting in front of his headstone and talking to him, or what I wanted to believe was him. I told him everything I would've if he were still alive. It had become so much of a habit, I'd panic if I hadn't spent the night in the cold cemetery.

Sometimes my eyelids would get heavy, and I'd press my forehead against the cold ground packed tightly over where his coffin lay, but sleep wouldn't come. I no longer slept; sleep was too close to death for my liking. How languid and unanimated a body looked while unconscious. The thought of such a thing frightened me, and I opened my eyes in trying to rid the image from my mind. I knew I had nothing to fear from death, but to think of my own body in such a lifeless state sickened me.

I hadn't spoken in several hours, the cold seizing its chance to numb my lips. The words I wanted to say hung on the tip of my tongue, eagerness urging them forward. I wanted to say it night after night, but fear held them back. I had to tell him tonight, I'd put it off for far too long.

I clenched my cold fingers tighter around my stomach as the wind kicked at my hair again, sticking it to a wet spot on my cheek. I sighed once again, and straightened my body away from the cold headstone I'd been leaning on.

"I'm going to tell you a story," My voice was soft as I spoke, the brittle air giving it a raspy tinge. The familiar fear that prevented me from continuing arose, and I bit my bottom lip to push it back down.

"There once lived a vampire," It was going to be more difficult than I'd hoped, I already knew, but I forced myself to keep going. "She lived in a castle, all alone. She spent years and years confining herself inside the cold stone walls, fear holding onto her tight, taking her hand like a child's..."

I paused, taking in a deep breath. The air I drew in cut through my lungs with its wintriness, the inside of my throat filled with frigidity. The crystalline tears spreading down my cheeks lost their heat, leaving streaks of cold. I let my mouth open again, letting words escape into the empty night air…

**X**

"Mirja, did you take your medicine?" I chose to stare out the window as my therapist drowned me with waves of empty words. I stopped listening after the fourth visit; this was now my fifteenth. I realized that either what she said could never help me, or I just didn't want the help.

I turned to look at her. "Yeah, I did," I replied uninterestedly, returning my gaze to the falling snow. I could feel her glare; the sharp heat of her stare hurt the side of my head. I heard the blood rushing heatedly through her temples, her disgruntled thoughts, mostly pertaining me, frantically race through her mind.

"You know lying about it won't get you anywhere, and procrastinating won't help, either." She replied, growing irritated with my lack of assiduousness. I glanced at her once more as she scribbled notes on her clipboard, paying me no heed. I stared at the aging lines on her face, the deep creases in her skin that mine would never obtain.

"I know, I know. And I did, I feel better than ever." I let what I hoped to be convincing words stumble from my lips. Her and I both knew I never took my medicine; I hated it. It did nothing for me anyways, except sometimes make me more exasperated.

I kicked my feet lightly, fumbling with the buttons on my coat. The carpet below me was the ugliest shade of yellow I'd ever seen, it looked almost brown. I let out a bored sigh just as the little timer sitting on her desk went off.

"Please, Mirjami, take your medication. I'll see you next week." She muttered, knowing I'd just ignore her, as she pushed her glasses up her nose. I gritted my teeth as I stood, I hated when people called me by my full name.

"Yeah, I will, don't worry about it." I spat out as I walked out the door. The hall was long and creaky as I walked down it, leading me to a waiting room where two others sat waiting and a secretary typing furiously at her desk.

I reached for the doorknob, my energy inflating now that I finally could move about freely. The metal knob was frigid, cooling my hot skin as I touched it. Pulling the stiff door open, the caustic Helsinki snow greeted me.

The cement steps were nearly sleeted with ice as I set my foot on them; the thin fabric of my sneakers leaking in cold air. I tried to tighten my long coat around me as I briskly walked down the street. I kept my head down from keeping the bitter wind from stinging my eyes.

Unable to see where I was going, I bumped into someone. The unexpected collision caused me to stumble backwards into the snowy sidewalk, freezing powdery snow falling on my face.

"Sorry, love." I heard the deep voice mumble as he reached out a hand sheathed in a black fingerless glove. Somewhat hesitant, I let my fingers slip in his palm, the leather soft as it stuck to my flesh.

"Again, I apologize," he said, watching as I dusted myself off. I had dirty snow clinging to my coat, turning into blotches of wet as it quickly melted from my body's warmth.

My perpetrator had jet-black hair, just barely reaching the top of his shoulders. He wore nothing but black; a band shirt sticking out of a leather jacket, his eyes rimmed by two black pieces of reflecting plastic. His legs were covered in dark jeans with various chains clinging into the oversized belt loops.

"Accidents happen," I shrugged as I finished wiping the snow off my pants. I had forgotten my gloves, so my fingertips had turned a pale red and stung from the cold. I imagined the tip of my nose matched the flattering colour, the red an excellent contrast to my milky-white skin.

"Well, thanks," I murmured, allowing a small wave before pulling my soaked shoes from the snow bank and began walking away. I didn't have to look behind me; I could feel his eyes still watching me hurry down the street. I had the urge to look at him once more before he disappeared into the streets of Helsinki, but I resisted and walked on.

The longer I walked, the harder the snow fell and the more ludicrous I felt trying to plow myself through the snow. My nearly all-black attire had been covered in a thin sheet of white snow, melting into the once-warm fabric and gaining a layer of fresh, powdery snow.

Once I made it up the snow-covered steps of the building, I rested against the door. The added weight of the freezing ice had exhausted me. After a moment, I built up the energy to open the door and head inside.

The stale warmth of the building instantly permeated me, making my hands sting in pain as it unfroze the blood in my veins. I kicked clumps of snow from my shoes as I headed towards the elevator. It was one of those old fashioned ones, black and creaky, rusted in spots that would never work again. It often broke, leaving me puzzled as to why no one bothered replacing it.

I pressed the elevators up button several times before I realized yet again it wasn't working. Hissing curses under my breath, I turned around and started walking up the three flights of stairs.

"Karri?" I called as I opened the door. By the time I had reached the top, I had lost all the breath in my lungs. I stepped into the dimly lit apartment expecting my roommate to be in there, sitting in darkness watching the television. No response came, and I slid the rest of my body through the small crack I'd made.

"Karri," I called again, my voice louder in hopes she'd hear. I switched the light on, hastily eradicating the darkness, enabling my eyesight to work. Once adjusted to the recently acquired light, I found there was a note taped to the usually bare refrigerator.

Karri was going to be late tonight, as she could be quite notorious for, so I'd be better off not waiting for her arrival. After skimming her scrawled handwriting, I crumpled the paper up and tossed it in the trash. The entire apartment was barely lit, but then again we both loved the darkness. I curled up on the couch not bothering to take off my coat, falling asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

**_FRAMED IN BLOOD._**

_basically, I really hate to have left this off where I did. I'm just a fussy editor, and I've been toying with this peice for some time, not entirely sure how I'm going to make it flow into the other chapters, already written. I hate writer's block._

Blinding sunlight pierced through the tattered curtains, hitting my face in bright, prying rays. I really had no intention of getting up, but the sun told me otherwise. I let out a light groan, rolled onto my other side and strained to look at the old clock on the wall. It was almost 2 in the afternoon. I normally didn't sleep so late; I must have been unusually tired. I stood up, as much as I reviled to have, and skulked into the kitchen.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty." Karri called from where she sat. I shot her a look as I paused, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Don't forget, you're working tonight!" She reminded me, tilting her head as she looked up at me. She was sitting on the seat pretzel legged, her long blonde hair draped over her shoulders. An empty bowl of cereal sat on the table in front of her, despite the fact it was late afternoon.

I scowled in dissatisfaction as I dragged my body to the fridge, scanned the schedule on the door. Karri leaped playfully from her chair to put the milk back in the refrigerator.

"Tonight is going to be packed," she smirked gleefully as she slid her lean body towards the door, slipping on her coat. "I've got to go set up anyways, huge local band playing tonight," she then added, waving her hands in the air in sardonic enthusiasm. "I'll see you later." She stated, slipping out the door.

A peculiar silence abruptly filled the residence, one that sent the tiny little hairs on my arm to elevate in familiar foreboding. I let my lungs deflate every last ounce of air, admonishing my nerves to calm down as I reached over and turned the knob on to the shower. I slipped out of my clothes and into the heat of the water, letting it hit my bare body in small beads. For about fifteen minutes, I stood there letting the steam and water encase my skin. Within another ten minutes I had stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my pasty, damp body.

I stepped carefully from the restroom, small streams of vaporized water trailing towards the ceiling once the door was opened. The afternoon sunlight kept the apartment lit, permitting me the small freedom of not having to stumble in the dark. Small puddles formed at my toes as I briskly prowled to my door, entering the dark sanctuary of my room. My shades danced lightly against the open window, letting in the slightest bit of light.

Tossing my dirty clothes in a laundry basket that I'd have to attend to later on, I made my way across my cramped room stuffed with unpacked boxes. A somewhat recent attempt to move, bringing me as far as the threshold, left half my belongings taped in cardboard boxes, the rest of it tossed on the floor. My bed was disheveled, for I never bothered keeping it kempt.

I let myself thump to the floor, my wet legs crossed beneath me, a large box sitting before me. My still slightly damp hands left faint handprints on the boxes as I ripped the tops open, digging through the endless heaps of black fabric.

A stale smell emerged from some of the clothes, having sat too long in their box. I scowled as I slipped clothing on, kicking the smelly clothes to the corner. I decided I would have to do laundry before I left. A voluminous shirt covered my small frame, hiding my waist and chest. Some band name was scrawled on the front, the peeling fabric paint depicting an album cover.

My stomach felt a little unsettled, I decided it was from the absence of food in my stomach. I hauled myself into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets. I really wasn't in an eating mood, so I just took a few cookies and nibbled on them as I walked into the living room.

I turned the television on, though walked away without bothering to see what was on. Since I don't listen to the radio, the apartment would be filled with an eerie silence I wouldn't like without the television on.

I slipped back into my bedroom, the obscurity much more comfortable than the sunlight-drowned living room. The deep crimson of my walls kept the room even darker, with the black shades encumbering the light. My eyes always attuned easily to this sudden shift. A tinge of an unpleasant odor sifted through the air in my room, reminding me of the musty clothes that lay upon my carpet. I grimaced, but still bent to gather the garments up and throw them in the basket. Once completed with this task, I grabbed one of the plastic handles and began dragging it towards the laundry room. The plastic was a thin material beneath my palm and easily cracked with the grip I placed on it.

Idly making my way to the washer, the uncomfortable empty feeling rustled inside my stomach again. I shut my eyes tightly, silently disposing it. I decided I'd take some painkillers to soothe it; I must just have an upset stomach.

I stepped into the laundry room, using my free hand to open the top of the washing machine. As the water began filling it, I closed my eyes, unconcerned with the clothes I was currently tossing in the machine. I felt slightly ill, and I really just wanted to sleep. I reopened my eyes as I slammed the lid down, the water splashing on the clothes beneath it.

Kicking the plastic basket aside, I left the room feeling a yawn squirming its way up my throat. I unenthusiastically released it as I sat myself on the couch.

The lids of my eyes felt the weight of exhaustion, as if each lash was a fine strand of lead. I let myself close them, exhaling as I pushed my head backwards into the sofa, ignoring the television.

I listed several different options for the cause of my sudden fatigue. I hoped it was merely a cold brought by the unpleasant air of winter and not a heavy craving for blood. A simple ailment would be better than my bodys needs.

Warm breath innately slipped through my lips once again, my eyes refusing to open. I placed my palm over my forehead, my fingertips gently touching the crease of my closed eyes. A malicious smile curved across my lips as I recalled the bittersweet taste of blood; the beast inside me rustling from its abeyance.

I wrenched my eyes open, the raw clarity of the afternoon light taming my beast. I had to keep it asleep as long as I could, feeding only when it demanded instincts over sanity. Slowly I let my eyes close, biting my lip to draw blood. The proverbial taste should drug it back to bed, keeping it tucked in the depths of my body.

I insufflated in ease, the warmth from my hand satisfied my pallid skin. I tossed my body over, burying my face in the side of the couch. My knees were pulled up close to my chest, keeping the little body heat I had to myself. My veins pulsed with my own cold blood, enervation wearing my energy out. I pulled a pillow over my head, letting no cracks of light penetrate my comforting darkness. I heaved yet another sigh, my body breathing calmly as actor's voices kept the quiet away.

The sunlight continued to batter my face, even when buried beneath the sofa pillows. My body was sore and I wanted sleep, and the bitter rays of sun only goaded me more. I kicked a foot loose, throwing the pillow away from my squinting face. I figured the only place my lethargic body could find composure was in the environment I had created for myself among the dusty obscurity of my room.

Pushing my palms into the sofa, I hauled myself up, letting myself stand there for a moment to regain balance then heading covetously towards my bed. The soft quilt felt more than perfect against my face, my provoked lids able to close contentedly.

In the depth of my mind, I subconsciously knew I was only getting worse. Months without blood weren't the healthiest method of vegetarian vampirism, but I did not care. I didnt allow myself to even consider such a thought, since I plainly didnt want to. I wanted to think I was commonly ill, and by burrowing my sleepy face in the pillowcases I rid my aching belly and mind of self-control, the deep silence of sleep taking over me.

What seemed like minutes of sleep was quickly torn from me as a raucous vibrating sound congesting the silence. I rolled over drowsily on my bed, scrunching up the blankets beneath me. My head felt as if it weighed more than lead, and my stomach throbbed painfully. I scowled frustratingly as I forced my eyes open, the pretentious green numbers on the clock staring me in the face. The added glow of a ringing cell phone only raked the dark from the room.

"Shit," I muttered once my eyes met the clock. I'd slept longer than I thought, the minutes twisted into hours. I let my legs slide away from my body, the coarse carpet catching their fall. My dark hair cascaded dryly down my shoulders, the dampness desiccated as I had slept. My slender fingers slid through them, pulling the clumpy strands loose as I slid myself off the bed, immediately looking around the floor for some stray socks. Crawling hurriedly on the floor, I managed to find a pair crumpled in the corner, snatching them up and pulling them on my cold feet.

The television spat advertisements at the empty room as I entered, slamming my palm down to shut it up as I bolted out into the kitchen. There was just enough time to put makeup on before I had to sprint down the street. Karri drove the only car, and since I opted to walk a majority of the time, she had assumed it would be fine if she took it.

Most of my clothes were still damp in the washer, and I had no time to throw them in the dryer. Blindly snatching a pair of scissors as I retreated into the lavatory, I grabbed a shirt left behind on the floor from either one of us as I snipped a tear in the neck. It clutched my chest nicely, accentuating the curve of my hips as well as outlining my thin frame. I thrust the scissors aside as I examined my manufacturing.

Satisfied, I dumped the contents of Karri's makeup, which sat on the corner of the sink in a small purple container. Used sticks of eyeliner and tubes of mascara rolled around in the sink, leaving stains of black on the white marble as they swayed. I uncapped the nearest stick and began delineating deep lines around the edges of my eyes, continuing with prompt strokes of the mascara's brush. The dark lashes curled delicately outward, framing the bright blue of my pupils with a harsh black. I blinked a couple times, adjusting the weight of the makeup on my countenance, then pushed away from my tedious reflection.

The bathroom's floor was littered with clothes, my coat a piece of the ever-growing pile. Having slept in the clothes I dressed in yesterday, I removed them when I bathed this morning. My never-tied sneakers huddled in the corner; they'd been kicked off to allow myself to undress. I snatched them up impatiently, thrusting my feet in the soles as I tugged my arms out the coats sleeves.


End file.
